


Let's Go Home

by LobsterLobster



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-14
Updated: 2014-01-18
Packaged: 2018-01-08 16:34:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1134949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LobsterLobster/pseuds/LobsterLobster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tag to "John Doe” because, let’s face it, there were a lot of loose ends to tie up! How do Abbie and Ichabod get off that island anyway? Where exactly are they going to sleep? And what about Abbie's ambulance-jacking habit? The adventure continues! Ichabbie friendship and adorableness, as always :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, for the sake of this story, we’re going to assume that injected adrenaline has basically the same effects as a particularly potent energy drink. Enjoy!

“Well, what do you say we go home? We have much work to do. We will require much more than faith if and when the horseman of Death returns.”

Ichabod started off through the forest.

“Please hurry along, Miss Mills,” he implored, grabbed Abbie’s hand and started running, “we must get back to Sleepy Hollow and-” 

“Wait! What are you-” Abbie gasped, nearly stumbling over a fallen branch, “Crane! Slow down, will you? We don’t have to get back right now!” She yanked on his arm. 

Ichabod swung around to face her in surprise. He tried to explain, “Of course we do! Our work is most urgent! My, my heart is racing. Miss Mills, I feel as though I’ve just pulled off a surprise attack on the redcoats and made safe my escape just in time!”

“That would be the adrenaline alright,” Abbie looked up at him, her expression a mix of smirk and concern. “Maybe I gave you too much.”

“But I feel great!” Ichabod declared.

“I bet you do. But maybe we better read the directions anyway, just in case.” Abbie let go of his hand and crouched down to look through the medical bag.

“Read the directions? Miss Mills, do you mean to say that you injected me without knowing the potential effects?”

“I can’t find it…” Abbie rummaged in the bad for another minute, muttering, “Maybe I dropped it…” She zipped the bad and stood up again. 

“I’m sure you’re fine.”

“Yes, I feel very fine!” He started walking again, although at a slightly calmer pace, saying, “While your medical expertise makes me somewhat uneasy, I have to say that your resourcefulness pulled us through this latest trial.”

“Uh-huh. Thanks,” Abbie replied, ducking under another large spider web. “Are you sure we’re going the right way here, Crane?”

“Of course we’re on the right way. This is our second time making this trek and my, what do you call it, my pictographic…”

“Photographic memory.”

“It comes quite in hand when following a faint trail and,” Ichabod smiled back at her, pointing ahead, “these trees…” He paused, frowned, and looked around for a few seconds before moving his arm to their right and continuing on in that direction. “These trees, we passed on our way here.”

Soon the pair arrived at the edge of the island. The toes of their respective boots stood just at the water’s edge.

“So. Now the question is,” Abbie started, “Do you have enough faith, Mr. Crane, that the secret walking-on-water path is still here?” She picked up a stick and started poking at the water.

Ichabod shook his head, “My faith aside, I highly doubt it, since the whole village has disappeared and I don’t see the indicative markings on either side.”

“Oh, I did not want to go swimming today.” She tossed the stick into the water and watched it sink out of sight. She turned to look up at Ichabod and asked, “You can swim, right?”

“Of course I can swim!” he replied indignantly.

Abbie held up her hands, “Hey, I was just checking!”

“In fact, I was the champion endurance swimmer in my entire regiment, before we were deployed to the colonies.”

Hands on her hips, Abbie bated him, “All I’m hearing is a lot of talk, Mr. Navy SEAL.”

Ichabod looked across the water, judging the distance, and then proceeded to remove his jacket, fold it into a neat square and place it at his feet. 

As he pulled his shirt over his head, he heard Abbie exclaim, “What are you doing?!”

Quickly folding his shirt as well, he told her, “Miss Mills, when crossing a body of water at low temperature, especially with the sun about to set as it is now, even for a short distance, hypothermia is a very real danger. It is best to keep your clothes dry if at all possible.”

He sat down on a nearby log and began to pull his boots off, saying, “Was this concept not covered in your basic survival training, Leftenant?”

Abbie just gave him a look and sighed. Putting down the medical bag and shrugging off her own jacket, she said to herself, “Okay then. After all the crazy that’s already happened today, why the hell not add skinny dipping to the list?”

She glanced over at Ichabod again, who was removing his pants, and quickly looked away, focusing instead on carefully untying the laces of her boots. 

In order not to prolong what could become a rather uncomfortable situation, Icabod said simply, “I will cross first.” 

He picked up his tidy pile of clothes, boots stacked on top, and raised it above his head. Wearing nothing but his Revolutionary War-era underwear, Ichabod stepped into the water. He moved quickly and was soon almost neck deep.

Abbie hurriedly undressed and stuffed her shirt, pants, and boots into the medical bag, barely managing to zip it up. Ichabod was almost to the other side already.

As Abbie stepped into the murky water, her determined expression abruptly turned into a surprised grimace. 

“Cold! It’s really cold!” she exclaimed through clenched teeth, awkwardly holding the bag above her head. 

Ichabod reached the other side and tossed his clothes onto dry ground. 

“Oof-” Abbie felt her feet slip out from under her and her head ducked under the water. She just managed to hold the bag above the water and popped back up, treading water. 

“Crane! I can’t –” she sputtered, “it’s too deep!” 

“Leftenant!” With a few strokes, he was by her side and grabbed the bag, balancing it on his head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’m okay. Thanks,” Abbie wiped her eyes and paddled the rest of the way across. 

They both clambered to shore, shivering from the cold. Abbie wrung out her hair, looking unhappy, and tried to shake off as much water as she could. Icabod did the same. He struggled to pull his dry shirt over his wet body, sort of hopping back and forth to try and keep warm.

“Dress quickly! We must go quickly!”

“I’m so cold, I’m so cold!” Shaking from the chill air against her wet skin, Abbie hurried to pull her clothes on and shoved her feet into her boots, not bothering to lace them. She glanced over at a now fully clothed Ichabod. 

“Let’s go!” She clutched her jacket closed tight around her, teeth chattering. 

“Here,” Ichabod said from behind her and draped his heavy cotton jacket over her shoulders. 

“Crane, no, you need-” protested Abbie. 

“Just wear it!” Ichabod ordered. He grabbed the medical bag and marched off into the forest before she could argue further. Abbie slipped her arms into his blue jacket and ran after him. 

………………………

The ambulance was parked at the entrance to the park path, right where they’d left it a few hours ago. Ichabod strode to the front of the ambulance and was alarmed to find it locked and empty. 

“Miss Mills!” He exclaimed, “Where are the Emergency Medical Technicians?” 

“Uh, they’re at the hospital,” she replied as she dug the keys out of her pocket, fumbling with the too-long sleeves.

“But you told me the E-M-T’s drive and operate the ambulances. How did we get here without them?”

Abbie held up the keys and jangled them. Ichabod looked briefly confused, then surprised, then impressed. 

“You commandeered an ambulance to bring myself and the boy here, all without sanction!”

“Just get in, will you?” Abbie stepped around him, unlocked the driver’s side door and climbed in. Ichabod obeyed and ran around to the passenger side. She started the engine and pulled onto the road.

“And no, Crane, I did not ‘commandeer an ambulance without sanction’. Not exactly. Captain Irving said it was okay.” 

“Not exactly?”

“Well this is not exactly your regular joyride, now is it?” Abbie retorted. 

Ichabod’s grin faltered for just a second at the unfamiliar term but from the context he could guess at the meaning. He asked, “What then, Leftenant, is your definition of a regular joyride, in your professional opinion, of course?”

Abbie rolled her eyes at this particular line of questioning. She changed the topic by saying, “Hey, go see if there are any blankets in the back. I’ve got the heater set to max so it should warm up in here soon.”

…………………….

Several minutes later they arrived at the hospital. Abbie drove slowly around towards the side entrance.

“So, this is the plan,” she explained, “We’re going to park here, calmly walk to my car right over there, phone the Captain, then drive home, where I will take a long hot shower.”

Ichabod nodded, pulling the emergency blanket tight around his shoulders. There was still some commotion around the hospital as the CDC tried to make sense of their brush with pestilence. The two made it to Abbie’s SUV without being stopped. 

Abbie turned on the engine and called Captain Irving’s cell phone while Ichabod messed with the AC controls, determined to produce warm air from the vents just as he had seen Abbie do in the ambulance.

“Captain, its Lieutenant Mills. I brought the ambulance back.” Abbie stifled a big yawn. The events of the day were catching up to her. “Yes, Crane is with me…uh, no, the boy’s not with us.”

Satisfied with the heater’s settings, Ichabod listened to Abbie’s end of the conversation. 

“… He, uh, disappeared…yes, into thin air, sir. I believe he went back to where he came from, before he appeared in Sleepy Hollow,” she said. 

Ichabod nodded to assure her, but it was still difficult to talk about supernatural things with Captain Irving. At that moment, she definitely did not envy him his job. Somehow he had to deal with some very perplexed CDC officials. 

“…Yes sir, I’m taking him home now. I’ll check in again in the morning… Thank you, sir.” 

Abbie hung up and looked over at Ichabod, who was happily warming his hands in front of the vents. She smiled to herself and put the SUV into reverse. 

“Let’s go home.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is Abbie going to do with Ichabod when the adrenaline finally wears off?

And Now, the Continuation…

The clock on the dash read 10:27 pm as Abbie slowly pulled up to the curb and put her SUV into park, but it felt much later. She looked over at Ichabod. He was leaning against the passenger side door, arms crossed under the blanket, mouth slightly open, dead to the world. He’d passed out shortly after they left the hospital.

‘Well, the adrenaline has definitely worn off,’ Abbie thought. 

She leaned her head back against the headrest and rubbed her eyes. 

What was she thinking? She should have just taken him back to Corbin’s cabin in the woods. He’d be fine. But no. Here she was, parked outside her apartment with Crane in the passenger seat, fast asleep. After everything they’d been through that day, really the past two days, and neither of them had slept since finding the boy last night, discovering the ghostly village of Roanoke, Crane falling ill, and yet more journeying through the woods, she just wanted to make sure he was alright. It was her responsibility to take care of him. The cabin was all the way on the outskirts of town and she was fairly certain he didn’t have any dry clothes to wear, or anything to eat for that matter.

He did look very peaceful when he slept. Abbie shook his shoulder gently. 

“Wake up, we’re here,” she said. 

No response. 

Louder, she repeated, “Wake up! Crane!” 

Nothing.

Abbie sighed. She took the keys out of the ignition and got out of the SUV, closing her door somewhat less than gently. She walked around to the other side and tapped on the window. His eyelids fluttered and he pulled the emergency blanket a little tighter. 

Abbie pulled open the passenger door.

“Hey! Crane! Wake up!” she implored.

Still nothing. Abbie rolled her eyes. She poked his cheek. “Wake up.” Poking his face with her pointer finger again, Abbie continued, “Wake up. Wake up. Wake up. Wake up.”

Finally, Ichabod opened his eyes. Alarmed and extremely confused, he grabbed the offending hand and focused on Abbie, bewildered at what was happening to him.

“Come on, sleepyhead. We’re here.” Abbie pulled her hand back.

“Where are we? You’re not taking me to the cabin?”

“This is my apartment building. You can sleep on the couch.” Abbie explained to a perplexed Ichabod. She yawned and continued, “I’ll make some hot chocolate, maybe order a pizza…”

Ichabod still looked uncertain about all of this. 

Abbie pushed her still damp hair out of her face and crossed her arms. “I’m too tired and cold to drive you all the way across town to a drafty old cabin right now. Really, Crane, it’s okay. Just stay here tonight.”

“Okay.” Ichabod got out of the car and followed her up the stairs to her apartment, for once too tired to put up an argument. 

……………………………………….

Ichabod trailed behind Miss Mills as she led the way up to her apartment. He trudged up the stairs, legs feeling heavy and soggy and bitterly cold. 

‘Pull yourself together, Ichabod!’ he thought to himself, ‘You’ve marched for days in the snow and wind. This is nothing! Keep your eyes open wide, that’s it.’

It was rather amusing to see Miss Mills wearing his long blue coat, especially when she fumbled with the sleeves. He wanted to stop and carefully roll the sleeves up for her, but he wasn’t sure that   
she’d take that very well. It could be quite hard to predict how she would react at times. After all, she had threatened him with deadly force the first day they’d met.

His reverie was broken when Miss Mills finally unlocked her door, pushing it open wide and flipping on the lights. Ichabod stepped inside.

“Oh! Leftenant, it appears that your home has been ransacked!” Ichabod exclaimed as he looked around in shock at the small, but much cluttered room. 

“Excuse me?!?” He received what could only be considered an incredulous glare from Miss Mills. He was getting quite used to that reaction, in fact. 

“This place is a calamity!”

There were brown boxes everywhere, some overturned with their contents spilled onto the floor, piles of books mixed with clothes mixed with pots and pans. The furniture had clearly been pushed aside, standing at odd angles in the room. 

Miss Mills rolled her eyes. “I know it’s kind of a mess, alright?” she replied, “I was packing to leave Sleepy Hollow and join the FBI, remember? The past few weeks my life’s been pretty much turned upside down, in case you haven’t noticed.”

“I do remember,” Ichabod conceded. Still, he couldn’t help but mutter under his breath, “and so have your boxes.”

He looked around for somewhere to sit. 

“Here.” Miss Mills quickly cleared off the couch, pushing things into an open box and piling it atop another box in the corner. 

Ichabod gratefully sunk into the couch. It was quite soft. He leaned his head back and looked around. Miss Mills disappeared into the other room to “get some blankets and things.” 

He should try to be kinder, since he was a guest in her home. Even so, it was dizzyingly full of new sights. ‘Perhaps best to close my eyes,’ he thought, ‘just for a moment.’ 

It suddenly occurred to Ichabod that it may, in fact, be highly improper for him to stay the night in an unmarried woman’s home. Social norms had definitely changed dramatically in the past two and a half centuries, but Miss Mills didn’t seem to feel uncomfortable inviting him in. 

‘Questionable issues of propriety aside,’ Ichabod thought, ‘I am grateful for her hospitality. We are really comrades in arms, so to speak. We’ve faced not one but two apocalyptic horsemen and just narrowly averted true catastrophe.’ 

He opened his eyes to see Miss Mills returning with a pile of blankets. 

“The two of us really do make a good team, Miss Mills,” he told her, “I believe you would get along quite well with my childhood friends, Sebastian and Paul. We were quite the terror, always sneaking about and looking for adventure. But that was then. And now…” he trailed off. His thoughts were spiraling around aimlessly and his eyelids were growing heavy again.

“Oh, I’m sure you were.” Miss Mills said and dropped the great stack of blankets onto the couch beside him. 

She handed him something, saying, “You can try to wear these. I don’t think I have anything else that would fit you.”

Ichabod held up a large blue cotton shirt with a white check mark on the front and a pair of baggy drawstring pants that were very fuzzy and covered in hundreds of little bright red hearts. For a long moment, Ichabod simply did not know what to make of what was in front of him.

“You expect me to wear this?” he asked.

Miss Mills was smiling at his reaction. She replied, “At least it’s dry. And clean. Just wear it for the night. Nobody will even see you.”

She opened a closet he hadn’t even noticed was there and put her hand on a large machine inside. 

“Just put your wet clothes on here and I’ll wash everything, okay?”

Ichabod nodded. He yawned. He would ask about the mysterious machine in the morning.

“I’ll go ahead and wash up first. Just, ah, make yourself comfortable. Okay?”

He nodded again and she disappeared into a small side room on the other side of the short hall from what he assumed was her bedroom. 

Ichabod looked dubiously at the clothes in his hands. They were dry and warm. He stood and tossed the emergency blanket on the ground and slowly started to undress. His mind was full of questions like, ‘Why does Miss Mills have a shirt this large? Does she wear this or did it possibly belong to someone else? What if Katrina comes to me in a vision tonight? I cannot possibly let Katrina see me wearing these absurd trousers. Better to let headless Death do his work on me with a sharp axe.’

……………………………

Abbie tied a towel around her wet hair. She rested her hands on the edge of the sink and looked at her reflection in the foggy mirror. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, she felt clean and refreshed. More than anything, though, Abbie felt relieved. 

She’d taken quite a leap of faith today, trusting in her own instincts and Crane’s conviction. 

Dressed in an old sweatshirt and soft pajama pants, Abbie opened the bathroom door and headed back to her living room. 

“Crane, bathroom’s yours,” she called.

He didn’t respond. 

Stepping around the couch, she saw why. Ichabod was fast asleep, his head barely visible from under her fluffy white comforter. 

She quietly sat on the floor in front of the couch, lost in thought. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like for him to nearly die and then to wake up in a whole new world where everyone he’d ever known (besides the mysteriously un-dead Katrina) had died a long time ago. It was hard on him, that much was clear, even though he tried to hide it. 

Crane was right, her apartment was quite a calamity, but it was her home and even though she still wasn’t sure that bringing him here was the best idea, it was certainly too late to change her mind now. Mostly, she realized, she just didn’t want him to be alone tonight.

Carefully, Abbie got up and walked to her room. 

Her hand on the light switch, she softly said, “Goodnight, Crane,” and then turned off the lights.

To Be Continued......


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a new morning in Sleepy Hollow. How will this day turn out for our favorite Witnesses?

Icabod opened his eyes, slowly gaining awareness of his surroundings. He was in an unfamiliar room, yellow sunlight streaming through the window. He was wrapped in the singularly fluffiest, softest, warmest blanket he’d ever felt. 

‘This is Miss Mills’ home,’ he thought, ‘She brought me here last night, after we returned Thomas to Roanoke.’ 

He sat up and stretched his cramped limbs. The couch was a little short for him, but still far and beyond more comfortable than the often scarce accommodations that he’d become accustomed to in his recent life as a soldier in the Revolutionary War.

Piled on top of a box in front of him were his clothes but, more importantly, on top of that was a brown paper bag. Could it be?

Icabod swung his feet onto the ground. He grabbed the paper bag and reached inside. Yes! Donut holes. He immediately popped one into his mouth. The receipt was markedly missing from the bag. 

There was, however, a yellow paper square stuck to the side.

It read, “Back around noon – A” in Miss Mills’ handwriting. 

Happily munching on the sweet baked goods, Icabod picked up his clothes. They were remarkably clean and dry and, yes, even smelled lightly of flowers. Miss Mills had apparently already left for the day and let him sleep. How could she have had time to clean his clothes and even gone out to buy breakfast, all without waking him? How long had he slept? After the adrenaline wore off, while riding in Miss Mills’ vehicle, everything was rather fuzzy.

His head was much clearer now, thankfully. He bit into another donut hole and stood up, stretching his arms. In two large steps he crossed the room and lifted the curtain, peering out the window onto an unfamiliar street. It was clearly mid-day. 

Icabod looked down, alarmed to see himself dressed in the only half-remembered blue cotton shirt and ridiculous heart-patterned pants that barely reached past his knees. 

‘Miss Mills could return at any moment!’ he panicked, ‘No, no, no…’ 

Icabod hastily removed the foreign garments and again donned his own shirt and pants. He looked at the door, still closed, and sighed with relief. 

He looked around the small apartment more calmly. 

‘Now, does she have a coffee machine somewhere in this calamitous mess?’

……………………………….

Detective Luke Morales leaned back in his desk chair and twirled a Sleepy Hollow Sherriff’s Department pen around and around his fingers, lost in thought. 

He felt distinctly uneasy, like he’d made a mistake somewhere and didn’t realize it, like he had walked right by something important but hadn’t seen it, like something had very nearly gone disastrously wrong but nobody was doing anything about it. This uneasy feeling had been nagging him, always in the pit of his stomach, for the past several weeks. In fact, it had really started around the time this Icabod Crane character showed up, when Sherriff Corbin was murdered. 

It wasn’t that he thought Crane was the killer, or even ill-intentioned, but Luke didn’t trust the man. It was simply that Luke could tell when he wasn’t being told the whole story. This instinct was part of what made him a good detective. Luke could usually tell right away when people were lying to him or consciously omitting something. And now it was happening right here, within the Sherriff’s Department. Not only Abbie, but Captain Irving as well, were definitely keeping him out of the loop. 

Whatever they were hiding had something to do with Crane, he was sure of it. He just couldn’t pin anything down. The man legitimately was on loan from the Oxford history department. Luke’s uneasy feeling wouldn’t shake. 

If anything, the feeling had gotten stronger after the events at the hospital over the past few days. The mystery boy appearing out of nowhere and then disappearing again without explanation. The boy that, Luke had overheard, could only communicate with Crane.

There was some missing piece to all this, there had to be. 

As a child Luke had always dreamed of becoming a detective. He’d just known that was his purpose; that he was meant to become Detective Luke Morales. Well, then the Twin Towers fell and a new purpose was born in him. After a few years of fighting in the desert, Luke eventually realized that his old dream was still in his heart. He left the Army and worked his way up until he became a detective. It was more than just a job. He was meant to do this, to solve the cases others couldn’t.

And now he couldn’t see clearly what was happening right in front of him! It was infuriating! Never mind that Abbie would hardly speak to him anymore. He just couldn’t understand her and that is what really made it so hard to move on. He had no idea what she was thinking these days. 

“Hey!” John hit Luke’s shoulder with his notebook, causing him to drop the pen. “You coming or what?”

Luke snapped back to the here and now. He sat up straight and told his partner, “Yeah, man, I’m right behind you.” 

‘Focus!’ Luke admonished himself, ‘Just do your job! That’s all you can do.’

Putting the pen back on his desk, Luke grabbed his coat and started to follow John out to the parking lot. 

Just as he was leaving the office, none other than the beautiful Abbie Mills was walking towards him. He held the door for her.

‘Keep cool, man,’ he told himself. 

“Hey Abbie.”

“Hey Luke,” she replied.

“Where’s your shadow, Abbie?” He couldn’t help it. He knew he sounded petty, yet again, but the words escaped before he could stop himself.

“He’s sleeping,” Abbie stated and kept walking into the office. Didn’t even slow down or look back once. 

Luke was dumbstruck. He couldn’t move. His mind spun, ‘How could she say that? What?! He’s sleeping? What did that mean? How does she know that Crane is sleeping? Where is he sleeping? More   
significantly, where has Abbie been sleeping? Does this mean Abbie and Crane are… No! Don’t jump to conclusions. You have no direct evidence. But why would she say that to me?’

With those two words, said so casually, Luke felt suddenly nauseous. He looked around in desperation, only to see John leaning against their squad car, arms crossed over his chest. His partner’s smirk was visible from across the parking lot. 

Fighting to remove the stricken look from his face, Luke walked over to the car. Whatever John was going to say, he didn’t want to hear it, but he had no choice. 

“Buddy, when are you gonna get over her?” John went around to the driver’s side but kept talking. “Because this here,” he waved his hand in Luke’s general direction, “it just ain’t healthy, man.”

“You got that right,” Luke muttered as he got into the car.

John turned the ignition. “I tell ya what, let’s us go over to Louie’s Place after shift tonight. Grab some beers, maybe some dancing with a pretty girl or two. That’s the medicine right there.”

“Maybe you’re right.”

“I know I’m right.” John grinned. John didn’t always understand his partner, he didn’t even know the whole story between Luke and Abbie, but he could sure tell when his friend needed some cheering up. 

…………………………………………..

Abbie had just sat down at her desk when Captain Irving called her into his office. 

“Lieutenant Mills! In my office.”

“Yes sir!”

As soon as she stepped inside, the Captain said, “Close the door.”

She complied. “What is it, sir?” Abbie asked, growing concerned. 

Captain Irving leaned against the edge of his desk.

“So here it is,” he began, “When the boy, Thomas, appeared two days ago they did a blood test on him. Turns out he never had any modern vaccinations, not a single one, highly peculiar for any   
American child today. Now, I’m telling you this because this morning I received a call from one of the lab techs at the hospital. They also did a blood test on Mr. Crane.”

Now apprehensive, Abbie asked, “Is this a problem? What did they find?”

“He couldn’t tell me the specifics, but he started asking all kinds of questions I quite frankly don’t have the time or, for that matter, the answers for. I told him that Crane was on loan to the Sherriff’s Department from Oxford as a consultant for some cases. Maybe his immunizations have expired or some such.”

“Okay…immunizations, right.”

“Anyway, Lieutenant, you might want to get our resident time traveler over to the hospital and make sure he has all his shots before somebody calls the National Enquirer or worse, more feds.” Irving pointed his finger at her, eyebrows raised, “Got it?”

Abbie nodded, “Got it, sir. I’ll take him over to the clinic.”

“Good,” Irving said, just as his phone rang. He waved Abbie out of his office and picked it up.

To Be Continued....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think Luke deserves some sympathy. He’s just heartbroken and confused is all. (Also, for the sake of this story, we're pretending Luke's partner's name is John.)   
> Anyway, next chapter it’ll be back to the Abbie and Icabod Adventures with bonding time at the doctor’s office!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What has Ichabod been up to, left alone in Abbie's apartment all this time? Also featuring Ichabod vs. chopsticks!

Abbie walked up the stairs to her apartment. She’d told Crane that she would be back by noon, but by now it was getting to be late afternoon. Most of the morning had been spent on patrol, reassuring the good people of Sleepy Hollow that there was, in fact, no deadly plague and no need to panic. When she finally checked in at the office Captain Irving had instructed her to take Crane to get some vaccinations. 

It should be no problem, a simple doctor’s visit really. Crane had already been in the hospital once and now he wasn’t even sick. It’ll be fine. ‘We’ll pick up some lunch on the way,’ she thought.

She turned her key in the lock and stepped inside. She froze, not quite sure how to take in the improbable scene before her eyes.

‘No,’ Abbie thought, putting a hand over her eyes to block it out, ‘Can this really be happening right now? A Revolutionary War soldier is standing in my kitchen, washing the dishes. Maybe I really am crazy and the past few weeks, it’s all been a dream. Maybe the night Corbin was killed, I hit my head and I’m in a coma, making this all up in my mind. Maybe –“ 

“Miss Mills? Are you okay?” 

Abbie blinked as Icabod’s soapy hand pulled her hand away from her eyes. She looked right into his concerned face. He was saying with some urgency, “What is it? Are you alright?”

“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Abbie assured him with a smile. He was confused by her strange behavior. 

“Sorry. I’m fine, really. I just had a strange thought there for a moment. Don’t worry about it.”

Icabod was not satisfied. He asked, “What is it you’re thinking, Miss Mills? Please tell me.”

“It’s just that, you know, rationally it’s impossible for you to be here, suddenly in the middle of my life, doing the dishes no less, when by all rights you should be off fighting the redcoats. I just thought, what if none of this is real and I’ve imagined it all?” Abbie explained the best she could, trying to laugh it off, hoping he wouldn’t make a big deal about it.

“You’re doubting yourself again. Miss Mills,” Icabod said very seriously, taking Abbie’s hand and placing it over his heart, “I assure you that I am very real and I am here now.”

“O-kay.” she smiled, amused at his intensity, “Thanks for the reality check!” 

“Any time. I am quite at your service,” Icabod replied.

“And you’re rockin’ the apron, by the way.” Abbie grinned as she appraised the tall man wearing an apron that read ‘KISS THE COOK’ in big flirty letters. 

Slightly flustered, Icabod wiped his hands on the front of the apron and turned back to the sink. 

He retorted, “I was looking for a coffee cup, but it appears that every utensil you own is filthy! Something had to be done.”

Abbie was too amused to take offense. She replied lightly, “You know, Crane, if you really feel that way then maybe you should just stay here for good. I could use some help unpacking, arranging the spice rack…”

Icabod suddenly realized that he’d had quite enough of cleaning for the day and promptly untied the apron. He wadded it up and handed it to Abbie with a smirk, saying, “In that case, Leftenant, I hereby submit my resignation.”

Abbie laughed and tossed the apron onto the counter while Icabod was already pulling on his boots and coat. 

‘Wow, he really did clean everything!’ she thought when she saw most of her dishes neatly stacked beside the sink, a few bowls still in the soapy water. 

“Let’s go grab something to eat then I’ve got to take you somewhere.”

Icabod was already at the door. “Let’s go.”

“So, how do you feel about Chinese?” Abbie asked.

Taking in his expression, she answered herself, “Baffled. Shoulda seen that coming.”

…………………………………

The lunch rush had finally wound down and Kevin Li settled in to wait out another dull afternoon at Sleepy Hollow’s only Fast China Wok. He leaned against the counter next to the cash register and tapped away on his smart phone, texting Maggie, the pretty girl from his Algebra class. 

The little bell above the door jingled. Kevin tore his eyes from his phone to see two lunch-time stragglers walk towards him.

“Hey Abbie, how’s it going? You want your usual?”

“Hey Kevin. Yeah, make it two orders, for here. And add a small thing of crab wontons too, please.”

“Coming right up!” Kevin rung up the order and yelled into the back office, “Yo, Paul, come out here and help me!” He counted out the change and handed it over the counter.

“Thanks,” Abbie said. 

“Hey, what’s with him?” Kevin asked her, nodding towards the tall man, dressed in some kind of weird old fashioned clothes, staring transfixed at the menu board.

Abbie glanced at her companion, who was slowly reading the items to himself, “…Moo…shoo…”

“Uh, he’s from out of town,” she supplied.

“Oh. Cool,” Kevin said, quickly shooting one last text to Maggie before sliding the phone into his pocket and turning back to the kitchen. “It’ll be ready in about ten.”

Later, Kevin brought the food over to them at the little table by the window, tossing two sets of chopsticks and a bunch of soy sauce and duck sauce packets onto the table. 

He went back to his post by the cashier and scrolled through his facebook newsfeed. Tami had invited him to a party next weekend. Kevin had always thought Tami was kind of annoying, but she was   
Maggie’s best friend. She’d probably be at the party too, wouldn’t she? 

……………………………

Abbie tried briefly to teach Icabod how to use chopsticks properly, but he’d made a great mess of it, grains of rice tumbling everywhere. Abbie didn’t press the issue since he seemed quite flustered about it and he quickly decided to make do simply raising his bowl and scooping the food right into his mouth. 

“Bizarre utensils aside, this is quite good!” Icabod declared, “I am continually amazed at the myriad varieties of food available at a moment’s notice.”

“It is good, isn’t it?” Abbie agreed. 

“Here, have some more of this,” she said and deftly picked up a few morsels of chicken from the large plate with her chopsticks and deposited them into his bowl, one by one, adding a few veggies for good measure.

“Thank you,” he replied graciously. In between bites, Icabod said, “I am most anxious to return to the archives. I believe there is something we missed in the book I was –“

“Hold your horses now, Crane,” Abbie interrupted, “We’re not going back to the archives just yet.”

“All of my horses have surely perished many many years ago, and I do not see how they pertain to this conversation at all.”

Abbie shook her head, “Uh, never mind. Anyway, you have a doctor’s visit today. I figure we can just go to the Minute Clinic down on Main Street.”

“I have no need for a doctor. Aside from our encounter with pestilence yesterday, I am the picture of health,” Icabod assured her.

“Let me explain,” Abbie began, absently pointing her chopsticks in Icabod’s direction, “Like it or not, you live here now and we need to do this. Every few years people go to the doctor’s to have a   
physical. It’s not because you’re sick, it’s just like a check-up to measure your height, weight, blood pressure, make sure you have your vaccinations… A precautionary measure.”

“I appreciate your concern, Miss Mills, but I’m not sure such measures are entirely necessary,” Icabod said, unconvinced that this modern custom actually applied to him.

“Crane, this really is important. Just trust me,” Abbie said, adding, “and besides, Captain Irving told me to take you, so neither of us really have a choice anyway.”

Icabod sighed. He definitely didn’t want to argue with the Captain unless absolutely necessary. It might be best to go along with it, for now anyway. 

“Alright,” he consented reluctantly, “if you insist.”

…………………………………

To Be Continued!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming Soon.... Ichabod vs. the doctor's office! How will he handle getting his vaccinations?


End file.
